I may be 
round I’m not 
square and as
round I don’t 
fit by force
or will or
wish or whatever 
I am round 
like a balloon 
I am heavenly 
like the world 
or the moon 
or a comet 
streaking through the 
night’s sky setting 
it beautifully ablaze 
I’m not square 
never have been 
no edges here 
which to poke 
or catch or
be cut by
I am round 
round and round 
I merrily go 

All I want 
to ever be 
is a number 
on some door
that something comes 
looking for to 
drop in front 
little else than 
that I’ll be 
if it is 
up to me 

A tilled field 
is never free
from those things 
hiding behind roots
rocks and rambles 
things that surface 
and seen it
seems too late 
back I go
with my hoe
digging up each 
and pitching them 
into small piles 
and picking through 
find the treasures 
to keep and
toss the rest 
those dead things 
never take root 

I have found 
my peace in
the serenity of 
self an oasis 
and a wilderness 
a landscape of 
thought where my
mind wanders and 
discovers little things 
that tickle me 
I am once 
again a child 
bewildered and amazed 
but never afraid 
for I have 
me at my
side and my
mind as the 
compass I’ll need 

And in this
bath I bathe
a baptism of 
self immersed in 
a calm sea
and breeze overhead 
bringing with it 
smells fresh from 
far away beyond 
and in this 
I hear heartbeats 
but only mine 
thumping deep within 
and I’m reminded 
that despite everyone 
else having once 
been everything it
is now I